


Suggestion

by nerigby96



Category: Martin and Lewis
Genre: 1940s, Age Difference, Angst, Hotels, Kissing, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Protectiveness, Rejection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:07:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23019808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerigby96/pseuds/nerigby96
Summary: 1946. New York.Dean thinks about the 20-year-old kid he's come to care for.
Relationships: Jerry Lewis/Dean Martin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30





	Suggestion

Dean doesn’t know why he does it. Doesn’t know why he keeps bringing the kid back to his room. Never asks, just starts walking and knows the kid will follow. By the time he reaches the door, it seems too cruel to send him away. Mostly it’s okay. They’ll tumble into bed and sleep and wake up the next day refreshed and content. Friends. Sometimes the kid tries things in the dark, under the sheets, and Dean tries to be kind and say no without saying it. The kid doesn’t mind. Doesn’t seem to. He’s happy just to sleep and maybe be held.

Dean worries sometimes what might happen if another fella took the kid to a hotel room. Doesn’t want to think about it. No skin off his back if the kid wants to do that. If another fella wouldn’t put a stop to it before it started. Dean thinks probably it’s already happened. How much or how little he doesn’t know, doesn’t want to know. The kid might want to tell him, though, and well… maybe Dean will listen.

The kid sits on the bed and calls softly to him. Dean goes. They can’t see each other, not really, not yet, just the shadowy suggestion of a friend in the dark. They sit side by side. Close. The kid slots fingers easily through Dean’s and leans against him, seems to doze for just a second. Then his chin rests on Dean’s shoulder.

“All right, kid?”

“Mm.” Nodding. His free hand coming up to touch Dean’s cheek. To turn his head.

A sigh, a whisper. Warm breath on his mouth. He dips his head to kiss Dean’s neck. And Dean’s head tips back.

“ _Jer_.” It shudders out of him. Blood throbs hotly in his skull.

“Do you like me, Dean?” Jerry’s hand, pale skin and long fingers, leaves his face to slip inside his jacket. “Tell me you like me.” Tip of his tongue pressed against Dean’s pulse.

He likes him. _Christ_ , he likes him so much. But he can’t – not now, not like this – can’t tell him now, can’t let him think this is how it has to be.

Reasonable, as gently as he can, he says, “Of course I like you.”

“Then it’s all right.”

“Oh, Jer.”

“If we both like each other” – holding Dean’s face now, voice shaking – “then it’s all right.”

“It’s not the same, Jer.” It’s true. He thinks it’s true. Jerry’s a good kid. Funny. Sweet. Sometimes he tells Dean things that make him want to cry. Then he’ll say something that makes him laugh so hard he cries anyway. And that’s better, better to see the kid shining with pride, overflowing with some huge warm thing that washes over Dean in a gorgeous wave. Better than having that huge thing turn cold, or worse yet, having that warmth turn hot, and travel south.

“Dean.” Jerry closes what little gap exists between their mouths and kisses his friend. Dean waits and waits and when he realises the kid means something different this time, he pulls away, feels him chase the kiss briefly, then stop, seem to shrink in the dark. Shudder and gasp. “Dean?”

“You have to go, Jer.” Level. Calm. Somehow. He stands and pulls the kid gently by his wrists to the door. “C’mon. Bedtime.” Trying to joke, his voice empty. And he opens the hotel room door, letting in harsh light and revealing at last his friend, whose face is red, whose eyes are swollen, and who stares at him desperately.

Dean doesn’t know how long he stands looking at the kid. Maybe it’s only a second. Not long enough for anyone to pass by the room. To see him pull a young man to his chest and hold him, hush him, kick shut the door and block out the light.


End file.
